Page 65 of Destroyed With You

“Oh, yes,” he said, without a moment’s hesitation.

“On both sides?”

“Definitely.”

“But—”

“But she’s hesitant because we were both living a lie.”

“And you?”

He shrugged. He’d told Linda he wanted a fresh start, and that was true. But at the same time…

Emma tilted her head, her eyes narrowed. “So how come you didn’t tell me to turn around and go. That I’d butted in on a confidential mission and I should know better. You think Seagrave may be dirty, right? I might, too.”

“I made a judgment call. I trust you.”

“But you don’t trust Linda.”

He winced, realizing that was the first time that lingering fear had been fully formed. She feared their connection wasn’t real, because everything had been based on a lie. But that wasn’t what worried Winston. He knew damn well that what he felt for her was bone-deep, and he believed with all his heart it had been for her, too.

And yet…

“She faked her death,” he said. “She walked away. And she never came back.”

“I’ve got news for you, sport. If I thought it would save Tony, I’d do the same damn thing. It would kill me—it would suck every bit of joy right out of my life—but I’d do it in a heartbeat. And you know what else? You’d do it for her if you had to.”

He stood there, battered by the brutal truth in her words.

Her smile was just a little sad. “You didn’t make a mistake trusting me today. And I don’t think you’re making a mistake with her, either.”

“Thank you,” he said, pulling her into a hug, then kissing her forehead.

“Now you’re just getting fresh,” she teased.

“Tell Tony he’s a lucky man. And Emma? Thank you for coming.”

* * *

Linda was pulling on a pair of Winston's old sweatpants when he entered the room. That fashion statement was matched by a University of Texas tee. “Nice outfit,” he said, grinning as he handed her a cup of coffee. “I’d planned to enjoy watching the caffeine bring you back to life, but this is good, too. You in my clothes, I mean.”

He’d expected her to laugh. Instead, she only glanced at him sideways for a second, then looked down as if tying the sweatpants cord was the most difficult task she’d ever undertaken.

“Your mother is washing my things.” Her words came out crisp and clipped.

“All right,” he said, taking a tentative step closer. “I’ll bite. What’s wrong?”

Her head snapped up, her eyes flashing with heat. “We’re hiding out, and you decide to have a chat with an old girlfriend?” She underscored chat with air quotes.

He took an involuntary step back, at first surprised by the vitriol in her voice, then amused. And then, damn him, he actually felt smug. He fought to hide the smile of victory and the swelling in his chest. “You’re jealous.”

Her brow furrowed and even though she was a full three inches shorter than him, she managed to look down her nose. “Fuck you.”

“All right.” He reached out, grabbing her wrist before she could back away and pulling her to him.

“Don’t you even think about it.”

“But I am thinking about it,” he said, his voice low and raw. “About how much I want to undo that tie and watch those sweats pool around your ankle. How much I want to yank off that shirt and then toss you on the bed. I’m thinking about how I want to lick your nipples and then kiss my way all the way down until you’re so wet that you beg me to be inside you.”